


The Bento Saga

by secondhand_trash



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Food, Humor, M/M, Other, Romance, Slice of Life, the illustrations come before the writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25786522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondhand_trash/pseuds/secondhand_trash
Summary: Osamu insisted on making bento for you every single day you had to go to work, but you were almost certain that it was more for his own entertainment than it was for you.Not that you mind. Whatever his motive was, you were the one who got to have good food down your stomach and there was no way you would complain about it. What was the point of having a chef boyfriend if you don’t abuse his talents a little?Until he started really, really running wild with his bento design…
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Reader
Comments: 32
Kudos: 208
Collections: Cadence's Haikyuu imagines





	1. The Experimental Bento

Osamu insisted on making bento for you every single day you had to go to work, but you were almost certain that it was more for his own entertainment than it was for you. 

Not that you mind. Whatever his motive was, you were the one who got to have good food down your stomach and there was no way you would complain about it. What was the point of having a chef boyfriend if you don’t abuse his talents a little?

Hastily pulling the sleeve of your jacket over your arm, you were tripping your way to the door of your apartment as you made a quick mental note of all the things you needed to bring with you to work.

Stupid alarm, why couldn’t you just ring a little bit louder?

You threw your shoes onto the ground before clumsily shoving the shoehorn down. Throwing your bag over your shoulder, you fumbled through your things with your other hand on the doorknob.

Phone, wallet, files… Alright.

“Forgot something?”

You were one foot out the door when the amused voice of your boyfriend rang behind you. Snapping around in panic, you let out a sigh of gratitude when you saw Osamu’s grinning face and the bag in his hand.

“Urgh, thank you Samu…” you said, leaning over to give him a quick peck on his lips as you took the bento from his hand. It was still warm to touch and the thought that you would still have your handmade lunch to look forward to even though you weren’t having the best start to your day gave you just a little boost of morale.

“I tried something new with the bento today,” he sounded very proud of himself and it only fuelled your anticipation, “have a good day at work, remember to eat.”

* * *

“Urgh..” stretching your arms outward, you let out an exasperated groan at the knots on your shoulder. You had been slouching over your keyboard all morning and your already decaying muscles were screaming for you to just take a break. 

Looking up from your cubicle to check the office’s clock hung by the corner of the wall near you, you felt your dying spirit perking up just a little when you saw that the tiny hand had already strike past the 12 the top.

Finally. Lunch hour.

Pulling out your bento that was put away neatly under your desk, you could not contain your excitement as you untie the knot of the bag.

He said he tried something new. Would it be a new side dish? New ingredients? 

This was all too exciting, Osamu deserves a big fat kiss when you got home for giving you a will to live through work. You thought to yourself, smiling as you open the lid of the bento box.

…

You froze in place as you stared at the bento, and then slowly put the lid back on.

In a good distance away from your office, the phone of Onigiri Miya rang.

“Hello, this is Onigiri Miya.”

“Samu…”

“Ah, (y/n)!“ the young owner perked up when he heard your familiar voice from the other end of the phone, “what is it?”

“About the bento…”

“Oh yes! What do you think?”

“Samu, I love you,” you took a deep breath, “but what is that?”

“Charaben!”

You paused. Usually, when people say character bento, you would think something cute. Like animals, or cartoon characters. But what he had arranged…

“I saw this mom’s blog about how she tried to communicate with her daughter through each day’s bento and I want to give it a try,” he said while you had a million questions running through your head, “do you get what I’m trying to tell you?”

The call fell into silence but even through the phone, you could feel his anticipation of your guess. Slowly opening the bento again, you stared at the visual that you could not begin to understand.

“Um…” you were feeling slightly uneased by the wonky looking piece of carrot on the potato salad and the two pieces of boiled egg on top did not help at all, “is that a face?”

“Yes!” Osamu chimed happily, “and the ham pieces are supposed to be fingers!”

What the fuck… Your eyes traveled to the long pieces of ham with a small section cut out at the tip. Oh, those were the nails.

You gulped as you looked at the two pieces of seaweed near the eyes. Were those sweat? The face seemed… distressed? Because of the empty space in the square? Your head hurt at how clueless you were at whatever he was implicating. The seaweed rectangles on the rice were far too abstract for you to understand.

“And something is missing…?”

Osamu hummed in delight at your guess, “and?”

Two rectangles… and the hand was holding onto it? Wait. Wait…

“Is that the fridge?”

“Yup!” he didn’t hear the sigh of relief from your end as he continued, “I was trying to tell you to buy ice cream on your way home because I saw that our freezer was empty last night.”

Ah, so that was supposed to be his face? “Oh… ok…” you said, not really knowing how to react.

“It’s my first try, so maybe it’s not very good.”

“No, Samu, it’s great-”

“But I’ll keep trying, so just look forward to it!”

Hm?

“Is there anything else? Because the shop is starting to get busy and I should really get back.”

“N-no,” you replied, “that’s all.”

“Oh ok,” he said and you could hear the sound of doors being slide open, “I should go, remember to buy the thing before you get back, yeah?”

“Of course, goodbye Samu.”

You let out a heavy breath when you ended the call. Holding your chopsticks in hand, you stared at the face on your bento.

And then stabbed right into its eye.


	2. The Shopping List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Osamu struck again with his very... um... creative bento design.

The automatic door of the supermarket opened and closed behind you once again as another customer passed by where you had been standing at for the past moments with a confused look in their eyes at the way you stood there doing nothing.

Should you just make up some lame excuse as to why you went home empty handed? Would he believe it if you said that all supermarkets across the area of your workplace was closed down due to unknown circumstances? He wouldn’t. He could be a bit simple minded when it comes to certain things but he wasn’t dumb. You could already imagine the way he whined at how you didn’t try to go along with his efforts if you just straight up admitted that you gave up on it.

Ah…

Ah.

You had to at least give it a try, didn’t you?

You felt the pulse on your temple pulsing as you thought of what made a supposedly simple trip to the grocery store so damn complicated.

Ever since that time you opened your bento box to literally being stared down by your own lunch, you had been very careful with opening your lunchbox without anyone seeing the contents before actually eating it. The arrangements had been fairly normal since then. You had formed the habit of peaking inside from the barely lifted corner of the lid before opening it completely but there had not been anything as shocking since then. He sounded so excited on the phone about his new discovery that you had expected him to keep trying and trying until he eventually got bored of it.

You had come to the conclusion that perhaps he had given up way before you thought he would or that he just couldn’t find the time and effort to think of a different design each day on top of his already heavy workload preparing for opening Onigiri Miya each day.

Either way, you let out a sigh of relief when you opened your bento each day to see a regular, non-questionable lunch sitting inside. You almost felt guilty for saying this, given the amount of effort he must have put into that eerie lunchbox, but you just couldn’t handle opening your lunch like you were drawing a lot for some sort of weird penalty.

You should have known that something was up when Osamu handed you the cloth-wrapped bento this morning in a particularly good mood. You even heard him whistling in the kitchen as he wrapped up the bento. (”We came out with bento wrapping clothes with the Onigiri Miya logo,” he had very happily held it on his palms before putting it in your bag, “cute, right?”) But your alert had dropped at this point, almost certain that it was just a one time occurrence and the there was nothing you needed to look out for anymore.

And so you took your bento out onto your desk as usual, laughing along with a joke your colleague made as you loosened the knot on the cloth.

“Honestly, I’m so jealous that your boyfriend is so down to making your bento every day,” your friend said with a sigh, “I could barely get mine to put the seat down.”

You chuckled, trying your hardest to hide the grin on your face. Yes, yes my boyfriend was pretty great. “Trust me, he forgets to do that all the time too.”

“But if he can cook as well as yours do, I can let that slide.” they joked, twisting off the cap of their thermos.

You were still smiling when you separated the stacked up compartments of your bento box.

Until you looked down to see what was inside, and you felt the corner of your lips twitching as you felt like you pulled the wrong muscle on your face with how you tried to maintain your look of ease.

“Is something wrong?” they asked, seeing the way you seemed to have stiffened up.

“Oh, nothing,” you said, still holding the lid of your bento, “nothing…”

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the f u c k-

You brought your fingers to your temple to press down at the beating pulse point, trying to clear your head. You had no idea where you should start looking. Hell, you didn’t even know what he wanted you to get.

Why couldn’t he just send you a text like a normal person? You let out yet another heavy sigh as you pulled out your phone, your brows furrowing together as you pulled out the photo you took of the bento before you gulped it down so no one would see it.

Just… you still could not get over the impactful image that you had no choice but to stare at. You had to admit that you were very impressed by the amount of detail that was put into the pattern that was cut out from a piece of seaweed on top of the rice. He did a good job, with the technical aspect of it. But why on earth would he thinks that putting a meme on your rice was a good idea? 

Poor pepe, you silently prayed to the deceased meme that now ended up in your stomach.

Unlike last time, the message of the bento was a lot less abstract. He had opted to make things clear by directly writing out what he wanted to say thought the little speech bubble and tiny strips of seaweed. The seaweed was placed on top of sliced cheese so that it would look smoother and not be affected by the moisture from the rice which he must have learnt from the mom blogs that he had been browsing through religiously a while back.

What he didn’t take into account, was that the steam from the rice would condense on the top of the bento and slide back onto the surface as water droplets. Even though you could still faintly make out that they were supposed to be words, the small pieces of seaweed had already stuck together and was barely comprehensible by the time you landed your eyes on it.

You could understand “tomato” and “please buy”, thanks to how those few letters were mostly straight lines. But the rest… you really didn’t have a single clue what they were supposed to be.

Standing at the front door of the store, you felt an annoyance burning at your chest just by looking at how many aisle there were.

You would only prompt him to keep trying until it worked if you got it wrong, you were certain of it. With that thought in mind, you clenched your jaw and called your last two living braincells to work in this game of edible pictionary.

.

.

.

“Ohhhhhhhh!” Osamu’s eyes were near twinkling when he pulled out the items from your bag to see that it was exactly what he had wanted you to get. He snapped towards you like an excited zoo animal that just heard the sound of a nearby tourist tearing open a bag of snacks, sprinting to your side to compliment you on your good work. 

You were laying face down on the couch like a dead fish when he crouched next to you and when you exhaustedly lifted your hand, he very obediently put his head under your palm to let you take out your stress on his very soft hair.

You were tired. You were so, so tired.

How did you manage to figure out what the rest of the list consisted of? Well, it was a whole lot of guessing and all the luck you had gathered from the good deeds you had done in your entire life. You had even put the image through google translate once in a futile effort to figure out what it was trying to say.

Grocery shopping was not supposed to be this stressful…

“You look tired, rough day at work?” you turned to the side to look at Osamu who was now at your eye level, tilting his head with your fingers still weaved into his hair.

You were so determined to tell him everything as it was, but you immediately didn’t have the heart to do it when you were met with his round eyes fixed on you.

You had it coming…

“Yeah,” you said, “we are going through this real big project right now and everyone is on edge.”

He took your hand and pressed it against his cheek. You smiled as he leaned into your touch, caressing his jaw with your thumb. He was lucky that he’s cute, you thought to yourself, silently deciding that maybe you would try to be a little bit more openminded the next time he turned your lunch into a meme canvas.

“Then I should try to bring you some excitement with your bento then! Something that both taste good and can motivate you visually!”

What? Was the pepe not exciting enough in his opinion?

“I’ll start researching on food that can boost stamina and provide energy right away!” you felt like you had made the wrong move when the glint in his eyes grew and he perked up. 

Your hand was still holding out mid-air when he scurried away after giving you a light pat on your head, telling you that he would go run you a bath soon.

You paused as you collected your thoughts, and then slammed your face down onto the cushion.

It seemed like you had underestimated his will to strive for excellence…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. the words on the bento are actual words written very wonkily. If you do read Japanese (or want to put it through google translate), everyone is more than encouraged to guess what they are supposed to be hahahaha


	3. The [redacted][redacted]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter is very, um, suggestive...

_**Previously…** _

_You were so determined to tell him everything as it was, but you immediately didn’t have the heart to do it when you were met with his round eyes fixed on you._

_You had it coming…_

_“Yeah,” you said, “we are going through this real big project right now and everyone is on edge.”_

_He took your hand and pressed it against his cheek. You smiled as he leaned into your touch, caressing his jaw with your thumb. He was lucky that he’s cute, you thought to yourself, silently deciding that maybe you would try to be a little bit more openminded the next time he turned your lunch into a meme canvas._

_“Then I should try to bring you some excitement with your bento then! Something that both taste good and can motivate you visually!”_

-

You might have deliberately left out that the true reason to your exasperation was the fact that your brain was squeezed dry after playing a game of edible pictionary under Osamu’s drive, but you didn’t exactly lied about anything either. There was really a big project your department was undergoing and it was pushing everyone’s mental well-being to the edge. Your friend, the one who sat at the cubicle opposite to yours, nearly had a meltdown in the office the other day because the drafts of a powerpoint was printed in greyscale instead of in colour. The head of the department, a middle aged man who looked like a round department store mascot and never raises his voice, was heard sobbing in his office after getting off a conference call with the management board. Needless to say, you had been walking on eggshells in every waking minute and you felt like you had aged by years just from these few days.

The only bit of joy you had in the office was the short 30 minutes you were mercifully given each day to fuel your body with food so you could continue to be tortured by work. Osamu kept his promise with changing up what was in your bento every single day with no repeats. Making count of what you had seen in your bento had become part of your daily routine. You had gotten several different pepes, a few cat memes and some very ambiguous looking faces (most of which you assumed to be him). You were hesitant to accept his new hobby of using your lunch as a creative outlet but now you appreciate it to no end.

Slamming the door shut, you placed your palm flat on the wall and sighed as the soreness in all the muscles you did not know was in your body started getting worse and worse.

God could give you 48 hours in a day and it still wouldn’t be enough.

“I’m home…” you muttered, kicking your shoes to the side as you limped into the living room.

Osamu appeared from the doorway and took your bag from your hand. You groaned at the weight that was finally off of your shoulder, rolling your neck to feel each joint cracking. He caught you in his arms swiftly when you latched onto him, putting all your weight on him as you allow your tired legs the rest they needed.

“Urgh…” your voice came out as an inaudible noise as you groaned into his chest, rubbing your face against the fabric of his shirt. He let your bag fell onto the ground with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around you as he felt you sinking deeper into his embrace, “if it goes on like this I’m not going to live to see tomorrow’s sunrise…“

You whined as he rubbed soothing circles on your back, the warmth reaching from his palm to your body. You felt your limbs slowly reviving under his touch, his hand trailing from your back to your shoulder blades then down your spine again. You could feel the rumbling from his chest as he spoke, his voice low by your ear and his breath ticking your neck, “Do you need me to give you some motivation?”

A sound that resembled a choked moan slipped from your lips when his hand pressed down at a particularly stiff spot on your back, “Please do.”

The corner of his lips curled up at your breathy reply. Brushing your hair away with his finger, he dipped down to the sensitive skin of your exposed neck.

“Can you make nanban chicken for tomorrow’s bento?”

He froze in place at your request. Ah, you had taken his suggestion towards a completely different direction. He thought that he sounded pretty sexy when he was whispering in your ear but perhaps the suggestive tone lacing his words went lost in your tired brain.

He bite back the sigh that was threatening to leak out, “Of course.”

-

Osamu didn’t try to initiate anything again the next couple of days, mostly because you came back looking like your soul had flown away from your body every single night that he felt bad for even thinking about doing anything that might tire you out even more. Was it bad that the thought of not being able to do anything actually made him even needier? Perhaps. But it had been a while and quite a while since you had done anything intimate and being a normal young man with normal needs, he felt like the even the slightest bit of skinship he could get from you was setting off something indescribable in him. 

Like right now, on the long weekend that he had been looking forward to every day for the past week, he swore he would combust if you shifted around next to him for just one more time on your couch that felt particularly crowded today.

You smelt so nice, he silently thought to himself as he buried his nose in your hair, and your skin was so warm. Your body fit against his perfectly, each sharp corner and soft bump molded together like the world created you two to fit with each other like this.

This was good, and all he needed was a slight push…

His arm around your waist tightened and his hand started wandering to the side of your thigh, "You know, it’s been a while since we… _you know_ …”

He tried his hardest to not press against you when you pushed your hips back as you turned around to face him, “Hm?”

“And I miss you…” his voice was dripping with honey as his lips ghosted over where your ear connected to your neck.

You grinned, feeling the way he got more and more handsy all over you, “Is that so?”

Osamu felt his chest swelling when you didn’t push him away, “Uhm.”

Your hand was on his toned chest as you slowly sat up and he couldn’t help but let out a heavy breath in anticipation when you inched towards him.

He nearly lost balance and fell off the couch when the doorbell rang.

He wanted to scream when you perked up, snapping towards the door in excitement, “Oh it must be my parcel!”

A million different curses in all the languages he didn’t know he knew ran through his head as you leaped out of his arms, leaving his hand hanging in the air as you hopped over to the door.

His eyes followed your frame like a puppy who got kicked to the side as you, not sparing him a glance, happily walked into your room with the card box in your hand.

Running his hand down his face, he let out a muffled groan as his plan was spoiled. Throwing his head back in frustration, he felt the dread building up inside of him when he felt the familiar stuffiness in his pants.

Oh. Oh hello.

Not that you were aware, but he had gotten rather familiar with the shower and its temperature settings the past week and as he once again shivered under the cold water that rained on his head like a waterfall, he contemplated the possibility of being drowned in a cold shower.

-

Your hand was shaking as you moved the mouse so that the arrow on the screen hovered over the send button.

Was this all? Was there anything you needed to add? You paused, your mind in a state of blank before your finger bounced against the key. You stared while the page buffered, before it returned to your mailbox.

You blinked, processing this sudden overwhelming feeling that was the fact that there was nothing you needed to do anymore.

It’s over. The earlier hollowness caught up to you in the form of thundering joy and trumpets going off in your head. You finished up everything.

You could not help the little squeal that you let out as you stretched your arms wide, rolling your shoulders back to reward them for carrying you through. Clasping your hand together, you almost felt like humming when you saw that it was just in time for lunch.

You could not be in a better mood. Your work was done and you managed to get it cleared out before lunch. How long had it been since you last had the leisure to really savour your food instead of gulping it down to squeeze out more time? 

You paused when you opened the lid of the bento, tilting your head to the side as you took in the very oddly shaped onigiri that was sitting in the center.

Hm- oh? Oh.

You scrambled to shut the box up with flailing hands when you realised what it actually was, looking around in panic to check if anyone had seen what was inside just then. 

What the fuck? What the actual fuck? 

What was he thinking? Your chest was pounding and your face was steaming with embarrassment at the very visual representation of the last thing that was safe for being shown in the office. How the hell would he think that this was a good idea?

Sliding your lower body off your chair, you carefully lifted up the corner of the lid so that you could peek inside to confirm your suspicion.

For fuck sake.

You attracted the bewildered gaze of a few concerned colleagues when you flopped down onto your desk, hiding your burning face on the cold surface to calm down your mind that was going haywire from what you have noticed in addition to the what you had figured out earlier.

That dummy did not model it after his own…

-

You were not sure if you wanted to be angry or amused when Osamu gingerly, but also a bit anticipatingly poked his head out from the doorway to observe you from afar when you came home that night.

All that was left was for him to have a tall to wag behind him when he stared at you with his round eyes like he wanted to say something but was also too scared to bring it up.

“Samu.”

He immediately stood up straight, “Yes?”

“I’ll give you 10 seconds to explain yourself.”

He blinked, his eyes skittering around the room before focusing back on you, “Was it not obvious enough?”

You found yourself unable to question his logic. Palming yourself, you did not know if laughing was the right reaction when he snuck up next to you and very awkwardly pulled you closer to him before resting his chin on your shoulder, looking up at you with a look that he deemed to be extremely irresistible.

Fine, he looked kind of cute.

You wanted to smack him when he very eagerly latched onto you when you turned to face him, his hands being everything but well-behaved as he leaned over to kiss you square on the lips.

His eyes widened when you put your hand on his face right when he was almost touching you.

“Should I worry about you doing that again?”

He shook his head frantically, looking at you from behind his bangs with a pleading look.

You laughed, before moving your hand away and let him close the distance between your lips.


	4. The Collaborative Effort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Osamu expanding his artistic liberty to the MSBY Black Jackal members.

On the rare days when you didn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn to prepare for being stuck in a tiny cubicle, you tried to exploit the luxury of not having to set an alarm to the most you were allowed.

Feeling a slight cramp on your leg, you rolled to your side while squeezing your eyes tight to shake away the soreness. You felt the bones in your back crack as you stretched out lazily on the bed that you now had all to yourself, fumbling to pick up your phone that was flung to the side.

11:30, still very early. You let out a soft sigh as you flipped your phone so that the screen was facing down before pulling the blanket up to your face, turning around to get just a little bit more sleep.

But your plan was rudely interrupted by the sharp yelp from down the hallway followed by the medley of noises of things crashing down.

You kicked the blanket off of your body in frustration, pressing the back of your hand to your forehead as you stared at the ceiling blankly.

What was he up to again?

“Samu, what are you-” you paused when you poked your head into the kitchen to see your boyfriend crouching on the floor with a bowl next to him, “are you ok?”

“Yeah,” he winced, rubbing the back of his head as he stood up, “I was trying to get the bowls at the back of the shelves but everything that was piled up fell down and it hit me on the head.”

He leaned down so that his head would be at your eye level with a pout and you clicked your tongue, reaching out to massage where the swell was forming while muttering for him to be more careful.

“I thought you don’t use the bowls at the back,” you questioned as you continued to rub circles on his head, looking around to see what he was doing before, “you said the other ones are easier to use and you don’t need that many- oh.”

Every inch of the kitchen counter was covered by plates and plates of food. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see that the dishes in the sink had already been piled up. There was a few abandoned pans being pushed to the side of the stove and the role of plastic film was sitting soundly on the floor.

Your eyes flickered between the mess and your boyfriend who now stood back up under your accusing gaze, looking at the ground sheepishly as you stared at him. “I was trying to do some recipe development and got ahead of myself...”

"I could tell,” you sighed, “so what is it that got you so worked up on a sunday morning?”

“I need to finalise on the bento designs for an event we are working on,” he perked up, “wait, maybe I can let you guess if you know what the bentos are supposed to be to see if the designs are working!"

You gulped, feeling like perhaps this was not the finest idea but he was quick to pull a box out from behind the many plates and handed it to you with both hands.

“Does this remind you of someone?”

“Someone?” you asked in confusion before turning your focus to the bento he was holding out, “um...”

You stared at the interestingly shaped rice and the seaweed strips that was on top, until the very familiar ring of “HEY HEY HEY-” started echoing in your head.

“Is it Bokuto?”

“Yes!” he beamed, turning the lunchbox to take a satisfied look at it, “the MSBY Black Jackal management team want to set up a pop-up food truck outside their next tournament venue to create more hype so naturally, I applied for Onigiri Miya to be in charge of catering.”

“This is actually pretty cute,” you tilted your head, feeling slightly not used to how averagely adorable the design was, “I would be pretty happy about it if I was a fan.”

“Right?” he chirped as he put it down, “I have the other member’s concept bento ready too. Look!”

He pointed to the red plum sitting on the stewed beef, “I even tried to incorporate each member’s favourite food into the menus.”

“Oh, so this is for Sakusa?” you said, feeling rather impressed by the amount of effort he had put in, “and the empty space on the rice next to the egg strands is the mask?”

“Mhm,” he nodded happily.

“Then the orange one over there is Hinata’s?” you pointed to the vibrant box at the corner that stood out from everything else.

“Yes!”

“I thought about putting raw egg on rice in there but seeing that we need to store everything in the truck that seem like it might get us into some trouble with the health department,” he said.

You stared at the bento in your hand and glanced at the other ones that were lined up at the side. Sure they all looked delicious but comparing to all the ones you had seen Osamu made, they seemed... normal? You felt a slight conflicted feeling. So was he giving your strangely looking bentos to you on purpose?

Then you remembered that there was one last bento you had yet to see.

“Did you have something for Atsumu too?"

"Oh yes!” he looked particularly excited that you brought it up, opening the fridge and pulled out a box from inside, “his was the first one I settled on, actually.”

“Hm...” you took the box he handed to you, and brought it to your face just a little closer to see if your eyes were fooling you.

...?

“Samu, what is this?”  


“Those are hamburger patties.”  


“Yes I know,” you took a deep breath so you wouldn’t sound too bewildered, “but why is there a pepe inside Atusmu’s bento?”  


“What are you talking about? That’s Tsumu!”  


...!?

“Does it not look like him?” Osamu furrowed his eyebrows as he fixed the omelet on top of the rice with his cooking chopsticks, “I thought I got his face down pretty well.”  


“I-” you stuttered, your eyes flickering between the rice Atsumu(?) and your boyfriend, “um...”  


Osamu, you did remember that you two are twins, right?

“Anyways,” he said as he put away the bentos, “I have a feeling that this collaboration would be a big success!”  


“Hm...” you nodded skeptically.  


It would probably do great in sales, but you wonder what the actual players of the team would think about it...

-

A few days later, you woke up to see Osamu desperately battling with a tie in front of the closet mirror.

“Where are you going all dressed up?” you climbed up with a yawn, swatting his fumbling hands away and took it off his neck. He was handy in the kitchen but surprisingly clumsy with things like this. You yawned as you knotted the tie on your own neck before handing it to him.  


“I’m going to have a meeting with the MSBY pr team today on the bento designs,” he said as he pulled the tie up, fixing the knot in the mirror before pacing out the room but not without leaving a quick kiss on your cheek, “your bento is on the table, remember to take it before you leave.”  


Then he was gone, leaving you still standing there and connecting the dots with your still half-asleep brain. 

So... did he make any changes to the designs after he showed it to you last time?

You got the answer you needed later when you got a message from Sakusa later, attached with a picture of the Miya twins wrestling each other.

Ah, just like the good ol days. You nodded, and pressed the download button on top of the message.


	6. The Sick Dat Bento (?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You knew that something was up when you woke up to find Osamu, who was usually always in the kitchen by the time you opened your eyes still laying next to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s been a long time without any new bentos but its back uwu I know we usually clown osamu a lot in this series but this one is kinda where we give him the appreciation he deserves hehe also its winter and I just have to write about something winter related so enjoy ouo

Winter in Hyogo was lovely, by all accounts. Not too chilly, but cold enough for the gentle sunshine gracing on your skin to feel like a blessing from the universe when you walked on the streets. 

It would have been a flawless season if you were to be given the luxury of staying underneath your thick, fluffy futon every morning after waking up until your body was sufficiently warmed up and the worst hours of the day had passed before you finally had to leave the comforting confines of your bed. But alas, you wouldn’t get paid for staying in bed and before the day that such a magical occupation becomes a reality, you still had no choice but to give up on the blissful warmth of your blankets at unholy hours in the morning before leaving for another day of sitting still in a cold office with nothing but lifeless documents as your company.

You let out a sigh as the blaring screech of your alarm kept ringing, shutting your eyes tight to relieve yourself of the soreness lingering behind your vision before turning it off in frustration. The room was still dark, and it would not be until you were ready to leave the door that any light would shine through the curtains.

That was winter work days for you, always making the offer of early retirement all the more tempting.

Rolling to your side, you sucked in a deep breath to brace the impact of what was to come before lifting up the corner of your futon that you would certainly miss throughout the day. The chilly air broke through the trapped heat within the layers. You shivered as you hastily searched for you cardigan that draped at your bed side table, slipping your toes that were numb from the cold into your room slippers. Osamu shifted in his sleep at the sudden evasion to his warm little bubble, curling up uncontrollably at the sudden loss of his heat source as you left the bed.

Wait, Osamu?

“Samu?” you called out for him gently, putting your hand on top of his body that was wrapped up by the blanket that he now occupied entirely. 

“Hm...”

There was a whimper that came from beneath the layers, hoarse and muffled as the man barely moved. 

No wonder why it was so quiet this morning. Osamu was rarely up later than you, always out of the bed at the first alarm to start preparing for the day. You had taken being woke up to the smell of warm breakfast and the sound of pan sizzling for granted with it being one of the few motivations you had to actually open your eyes. 

But right now, he was still in bed with seemingly no intention of waking up. You walked to his side of the bed, clutching your cardigan closer to your body as you bent down to push down the blanket that was covering his face just a little. His brows furrowed at the miniature, a bead of sweat appearing on his forehead as he clenched his jaw. His face was flushed but his lips looked dangerously chapped, the few strands of his bangs that had fallen down matted to his forehead.

“What time is it?” he asked groggily, the clear nasal in his voice making it sound like there was something stuck at the back of his throat as he spoke.

“8:30.” You replied, rubbing your hand along his arm as you took in his expression.

He shuddered at the time, kicking away the blanket but seemed more tangled up by it under his attempt as he shifted and tried to get up. “Shit... that’s so late. Why did I miss the alarm?”

You did not miss the way he nearly fumbled the moment his feet touched the ground, leaping forward to hold him by the shoulders before he could fall. 

You had expected it when you saw that he didn’t get up. Osamu rarely misses his alarm, and the number of times this had happened as a careless mistake on his part was near none after he had the responsibility of Onigiri Miya on his shoulders. 

But you knew your guess was correct when you pressed your forehead against his as he slumped over you. He was burning up, his face and his entire body as it laid on yours despite it being difficult for you to hold up his much larger frame. However, the person who was basically a human furnace in your hold was still struggling to stand back up straight as you held him there.

“Osamu,” you said, patting his back and trying to urge him to lay down, “go back to bed.”

“No...” he replied stubbornly, but ended up sounding more like a child who was trying to sound serious with his voice coming out weak and shaky.

“You are sick, I won’t let you get up like this,” you peeled off his hand that was latched onto your forearm, the lines between your brows deepening when you felt how he was sweating from his palms.

“But-”

“Miya Osamu.”

He let out a defeated whine, succumbing to the way you coerced him back onto the mattress as the dizziness weighing on his head finally took over. He was still mumbling about all the things he needed to do today under his breath as you tucked him back under the covers, reminding you to contact the staff that was supposed to come to work this morning as you reassured him again and again that you would get it figured out for him.

He spoke slower and slower as you fixed the pillow underneath his head, words melting into near incoherent slurs before he finally closed his eyes back up.

You did not move away until you saw the heavy breathing returned to a steady pace, even though the loud inhales indicated that he was still having a hard time. Sighing as you relaxed your hands that had curled into fists at your side when you hadn’t paid attention, you pressed your finger to your own forehead where it felt like his heat was still lingering on your own skin.

-

You had gone back to work as usual after spending too long pacing around that morning to call for a day off completely, but managed to file in to leave early. Just the thought of a sick Osamu being alone at home had you shifting in your seat. What if he woke up while you were gone and tried to force his wobbly body to handle chores? You had never packed up your things as quickly as you did when the clock finally strike at the hour when you were allowed to leave, dashing out near immediately the moment you finished off the work at hand. 

Osamu was still deep in sleep by the time you got back, much to your relieve. He seemed slightly more at ease now than he was when you left the house, the cooling pad on his forehead sufficiently absorbing the heat emitting from him. It had been a long while since you last saw him so vulnerable, his lashes fluttering at his eyelids jumped at the way your finger brushed against his cheek when you reached to check his temperature.

“Mm...you’re home,” he fought his eyes open when he sensed you moving away under his half-woken state. 

“Don’t go...”

You forgot how needy he always was when he was feeling unwell and how weak you were against his glassy eyes. Patting the back of his head, you tried to appease him as you cooed, “Let’s try to get you something to eat first, I’ll be back soon. Ok?”

He did not seem to be happy about the suggestion of you leaving his side, but still, let you go with a whine. Grey eyes stared at you from behind hooded lids, his cheeks squishing against the pillow as his hands curled and released at the corner of the futon he was grabbing onto. “Ok...”

When was the last time you ever stood in front of a stove? You were not completely useless in the kitchen by all means, but the long period of having all your meals being taken cared of by someone who not only knew what they were doing but found so much love in doing so had reduced you to nothing but a clueless cloud as you stared at contents in the fridge. There sat the jelly you had got for Osamu, which apparently was recommended to feed to patients for increasing appetite and reducing heat according to the articles you looked up on your way home. But other than that, it was a territory of unknown to you.

There were several Tupperwares labeled with different dates in Osamu’s scribbles. He had always been smart when it comes to domesticities, making sure that the best before was always marked clearly on the package of everything he bought. The drinks and soda cans were always refilled, which you had clearly taken for granted because the suddenly empty space stood out to you more than ever before. There were a few plates stacked up at the corner with sticky notes on the side and you felt a hollowness in your chest when you saw what it said.

“Monday’s bento.”

Oh baby boy...

You clasped your hand together as you gathered your thoughts, not giving yourself the room to stand around doing nothing. There’s a patient waiting for you in bed, and you couldn’t just let him suffer through a fever with an empty stomach.

You rolled your sleeves up, bracing the winter cold that graced against your arm, before searching in your sea of memories of all the times someone had taken care of you when you were sick.

The sweet smell of rice gathered in the steam, warming up your body with each inhale. You lifted up the lid tentatively and was pleased to see the all the grains had already melted together into a soft, fluffy cloud. The strings of egg added a tint of flavour to the otherwise bland congee. It was all starting to come together, and you let out a relieved sigh to know that at least he wouldn’t have to starve. The mess around the counter was evidence that you had to stumble through each step, the ingredients that you choppily diced up still lingering around the cutting board. 

You thought of the way Osamu always out so much effort into making sure you were well fed each day and all the thoughts he had put into each bento. 

The sheer cheesiness and absolute embarrassment that followed what popped up in your head made you shiver. Since when were you the type of person who could even think of things like that? But still, your hand moved to pick up the knife that was put to the side with the other reaching for the scraps that were left from the cooking.

He would probably like this a lot.

You hope he would like this a lot.

-

“Samu? Are you awake?”

The creek of the door was met with a soft whimper. The man on the bed swung his arm over to the side so his still heavy body could move with him, a small smile crawling onto his face when he saw you.

“Took you long enough...”

“Sorry, it’s been a while since I cooked anything,” the wooden tray landed on the bedside table with a clank. He tried to get up on his own, but the shaking of his arm had you rushing to help him at once. He looked sheepish as you lifted the cover of the pot, mixing everything together with the spoon before handing it to him.

Osamu was always touched by food, but maybe the lack of taste in his mouth all day had done a number on him when he had to choke back the urge to sob when he smelt the warm steam filling his nostrils the moment you opened the lid. 

“Is that a heart?” he was grinning ear to ear as he pushed around the congee with the spoon.

“Yes,” you huffed with a defeated laugh under his knowing stare, “now hurry up or it’ll get cold.”

He looked up at you, and your heart nearly skipped a beat when he pouted. 

“Feed me,” he demanded, his voice sweet and like a kid as he held out the spoon in his hand.

You knew he would be all over it. You let out a soft tsk as you took the spoon back in your hand, sitting on the small space next to him on the bed as you scooped up some of the rice.

Osamu felt a warm swell in his chest at the way you carefully blew against the congee, one hand cupping beneath the spoon before bringing it to his lips. His head was still pounding, and the dryness felt nearly painful as he had his first bite of real food of the day but he loved, simply loved the way your eyes never left him for even just a second.

The congee warmed him from within, and he indulged in the leisure of laying against your shoulder while you babied him. 

He latched on you when you were about to move away, rubbing his face against you as he whined. “It’s cold without you.”

“I need to get this in the sink or else it’ll be hard to clean up-”

“Nooooooo,” he held out for the last note of his voice, burying his face at the crook of your neck, “do it later...”

“You’re such a child when you are sick,” you joked, pushing away his bangs and caressed his jaw with your thumb.

“Yeah?” he muttered, leaning into your touch, “Good thing I have you here to take care of me then...”

You sighed, knowing that there was no way you could win when he was acting all clingy and cute like this. He let out a satisfied hum when you climbed under the covers, wrapping your arm around his waist while tugging his head against your shoulder.

“Get well soon, you big baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> [*tip jar uwu*](https://ko-fi.com/secondhand_trash)


End file.
